Page 84 of Love's Free Will

I ignored the sarcasm and went straight to the fridge for a bottle of water. “Got a damn headache. Feel like I got hit by a bus.”

Zay laughed. “That’s what you get for mixin’ Casamigos, Henny, and that Runtz. Plus, emotions. Dangerous combo.”

I downed half the bottle before turning to face him. “What time did y’all head out last night?”

“Soon as y’all disappeared to go ‘get her a hoodie, and didn’t come back, we knew what time it was’” he said with finger quotes, smirking. “Me, Nas and Egypt dipped out. I hit up that bartender I met at Ace of Diamonds last week. Kicked it with her for a bit.” I nodded absently, tossing the now-empty bottle into the trash. Then Zay leaned back on the stool, looking like he’d been waiting for this part. “Saw your girl sneakin’ out around eight this mornin’. Caught her red-handed.”

My brows lifted. “What you mean red-handed?”

“She tried to move quick like she was tryna dodge me, but I saw her ass. Hair all wild, shirt on inside out, yo hoodie bunched in her arms like she was holdin’ shame,” he grinned. “A walk of shame if I ever seen one.”

I didn’t say a word. Just walked over to the counter, grabbed my phone and pulled up her name. I tried to call but got a message saying Call Failed.I tried again, thinking it was the service, but I had good service in this house. There was only one explanation for it; I was blocked…again.

“This some bullshit,” I muttered under my breath. Zay didn’t say nothin’, just gave me a knowing look like he expected it.

I pulled up Egypt’s number and hit her with a text:

Me: Yo. I need Ave’s address. I don’t remember it from last time or I woulda been pulled up.

She replied quick.

Egypt: Okay. Sending it now.

The message came through with the address.

Me: Appreciate it.

Egypt: Don’t start no shit, Royal.

I scoffed because she was crazy if she though I wasn’t then I copied the address. Next, I opened the Uber app and ordered a Black — I wasn’t about to wait for Andy. This needed to happen now. While the driver was enroute, I jogged back upstairs, grabbed my wallet, sprayed a little Dior Sauvage on my neck, then dipped out the door.

On the way to her place, I had the driver make a pitstop to Starbucks to grabAveri’s favorite drink: Strawberry and Pineapple Refresher, light ice, with extra pineappleinclusions. Iordered it without hesitation. Had that shit memorized like her laugh. I got one for her and one for me. I held the cupholder in my hand the whole ride, tapping my fingers against the plastic like it could calm the chaos spinning in my head.

Not long after, the Uber pulled up in front of her sleek, mid-rise building in West Hollywood, tucked behind a row of palm trees and lined with luxury cars in the front lot. The sunlight was bouncing off the tinted windows, and I could see my reflection — tired eyes, clenched jaw, drinks in hand like I was bringing a peace offering. Hell, maybe I was.

I tipped the driver and climbed out, making my way through the front entrance and to the intercom system. I buzzed her unit but there was no answer. I tried again but still nothing.

She gotta be home. Egypt said yesterday that she didn’t have shit to do today.

I looked around, then saw a resident walk out with her dog — perfect timing. I caught the door with a polite nod and slipped in. I took the elevator to her floor, heart thudding with every floor it passed.

You better be ready for this conversation, Ave.

Because I was. I was done playin’ games.

22

AVERI

Iwoke up with the fabric ofhishoodie clutched in my fists, curled so deep into it like I could disappear inside the memory of him. As soon as I got home earlier, I immediately showered, washing away the smell of weed and regrets. But even after changing into a pair of shorts and a tank top, I threw his hoodie on wanting to envelop myself in his smell, to feel like I was still resting in his arms.

The sunlight peeked through the blackout curtains of my bedroom, soft and indifferent to the chaos going on inside of me. I pulled the hoodie tighter around me — oversized, worn-in, black with a faded Nipsey Hussle logo on the front — the same one Royal had once claimed I "stole," even though he’d never actually asked for it back.

Last night was supposed to be harmless. A blunt. Some drinks. Old chemistry. But we were never good at pretending things were simple. I’d told myself I was strong for leaving his house before sunrise. That slipping out while he slept was me protecting my peace. That not waking up next to him meant I still had control over my emotions.

But truthfully? I didn’t sleep at all. I tossed and turned, fighting the ghost of his touch and the warmth of his skinwrapped around me. His voice. The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. I would be a damn liar if I said I didn’t still love him. The problem was… I didn’t trust him not to break me again.

My phone rang, cutting through the silence. I groaned when I saw Egypt’s name flash across the screen. “Girl, why are you calling me this early?” I asked, clearing my throat.

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